For centuries, wolves have been cast as vicious, bloodthirsty creatures of nightmares and fairy tales, rather than as deeply social animals with an important place in nature. We wanted to understand the animal behind those stories. So, in the 1990s, we spent six years living alongside a pack of gray wolves (Canis lupus) on the edge of Idaho’s Sawtooth Wilderness. In a remote mountain setting, we camped among wolves, listened to them, filmed them, and slowly became part of their world. What we came to know was an animal very different from the one humans have been taught to fear. We witnessed wolves raise their pups, care for their injured, and mourn their dead. When a mountain lion killed a member of the pack, we saw how the loss affected the wolves for more than six weeks. Above all, we learned that a wolf pack is an extended family devoted to one another by relationships, experience, and knowledge passed from one generation to the next. The Dutchers’ camp was surrounded by chain-link fence, not to protect them from the wolves, but to protect their gear from the animals’ insatiable curiosity. Image © Jim and Jamie Dutcher. That understanding shapes how we see what is happening to wolves across the American West today. After decades of effort and revenue spent to restore gray wolves to a fraction of their former range, U.S. states are now pursuing aggressive policies to radically reduce their numbers once again. In Idaho, legislation enacted in 2021…This article was originally published on Mongabay

On Indigenous Peoples Day, let’s honor the leadership and contributions of Indigenous women in water. Women – and particularly Indigenous women – are underrepresented in the water workforce and make up less than one in three voices in water governance. Yet, the water sector has much to learn from women’s leadership. Women have always led, and women get things done. Across the water community, women bring people together, build partnerships, solve problems, and move important work forward every day. Their leadership takes many forms. Some lead through community engagement and relationship building. Others advance technical solutions, policy, research, infrastructure, public health, or education. Many do all of these things at once. Different perspectives help turn vision into action. Women lead in complementary ways, and that collaboration often drives meaningful progress. Indigenous women and girls gather stones to make water filters to provide their community with safe water in Ecuador. Image courtesy of Yachana Foundation. In working alongside Indigenous leaders such as Emma Robbins and Crystal Tulley-Cordova, I have seen how community knowledge, technical expertise, and relationship-building complement one another. Throughout this work, women continue to champion Indigenous knowledge, environmental stewardship, water justice, and community resilience. They advance conversations about water rights, water hauling, universal access to clean water, public health, policy, research, and infrastructure. They also recognize that solving water challenges requires more than technical expertise: Real progress happens when communities, researchers, educators, advocates, and decision-makers come together around shared goals. Women play a leading role in creating and sustaining…This article was originally published on Mongabay

A group of activists in the small border town of Lochiel, Arizona, U.S., is fighting to save 200-year-old cottonwood trees by stopping contractors from building a section of the U.S.’s new wall along its border with Mexico. One activist lived for over 70 days in the upper branches of an ancient cottonwood dubbed the “Grandmother Tree,” preventing construction workers from cutting it down while other activists used pulleys to bring them food and water. The protest was about more than protecting ancient trees: Activists were also fighting habitat fragmentation caused by the border wall in a landscape where biodiversity depends on ecological connectivity. The tree encampment began on July 28, after construction workers cut down three of the four cottonwood trees that were in the path of the wall. This double wall consists of two 30-foot-high (just over 9 meters) steel walls that run parallel to one another with a buffer zone between. Since then, helicopters, drones, U.S. Border Patrol agents, and local law enforcement have been surveilling the area, according to the activists at the encampment. I interviewed activists camped in the meadow adjacent to the tree, photographed the landscape, and participated in the daily morning rituals aimed at honoring Grandmother Tree and the land. There I learned that the movement has connected social and environmental issues since its inception. Many of the activists I met at the Lochiel protest are involved in No More Deaths, a humanitarian group that provides water and aid to migrants crossing the border,…This article was originally published on Mongabay